Death of a Bird
The california ocean is shocking in the late summer. I was covered in goose bumps as I came out from the water. On shore, I realized a handful of women were looking down the beach at my dog, Bisous. He was playing- jumping around a black bird with a long neck. Earlier, the bird floated like a duck in the ocean close to shore. Now, it was stationary on land, pecking in Bisous's direction. Kensi, Nathan and I started calling, “Bisous!” He paused mid play-pounce and Nathan ran toward him. When he got there, he motioned for us. Something was wrong with the bird. “He’s hurt?” Kensi asked as we approached. “Something’s definitely wrong with him,” Nathan replied. The bird was wobbling like a drunk. Nathan squatted and leaned in for a closer look. This scared the little guy and, trying to back up, he toppled forward, beak stuck in the sand, waves lapping onto his face. I reached down and tried to sit him up again, but he wouldn’t stay. I wrapped my hands aroun